The Ties That Bind Are Red
by Eve-the-Charlotte
Summary: Get it? Ha, ha? *Shot* The red string of Fate, Russia/China style! T for swearing.


_The Ties That Bind Are Red _by _Eve-the-Charlotte_

Disclaimer: If I actually owned Hetalia, this would already been made into a webcomic _and_ an anime episode. Seriously!

Pairing: Russia/China

Prompt: The red string of Fate and all of its lovely implications.

+RussiaChina+

Wang Yao looked down at his gardening, heaving. He then smiled as he looked around and observed the many other exotic plants growing in his newly planted garden. For once, his boss was right, taking up gardening as a hobby was a refreshing and rewarding way to pass the time. He would have continued to admire his hard work, had he not been interrupted by a rather large certain someone who decided right then and there that the personification of all that was China needed company.

A blur ran to the man and, before Yao had finished blurting out a "what the hell, aru," he had been knocked to the ground and glomped. The glomp-er being Russia, China did what his first instinct instructed him to do. To put it simply, he had a bit of a freak-out.

"俄罗斯，你搞什么鬼呀," Yao shouted, trying to push the large Russian off of him, "放开我!"

"But, Yao, I can't move away," the larger man pouted, though he did not understand Mandarin, got the jist of what the man called China meant.

"And why not, aru," China inquired, rather irritated by the Russian not complying with his wishes. It wasn't as though he was asking for much, just for the big lug to move so he could feel his lower body again. And his chest was starting to hurt the longer the Russian balanced his upper body's weight on it. And his ass hurt from his fall following the unexpected attack-hug. And now his head hurt from the formation of headache at the realization of the rest of his body hurting.

"Because our fingers are being held together now, Jao," Russia replied, tugged at something knotted on his pinky finger. The "something" turned out to be a simple red ribbon, tied to his smallest right finger, at the first knuckle. Yao eyes widened with a mixture of anxiety and horror as he saw the string leading straight to his own pinky finger on his right hand. He couldn't believe it, but there it was, the red string of fate. 操.

Wang Yao's disbelieving eyes traveled across the form of his, er, soul-mate. The body was large and well-muscled, covered with pale, pale skin, hidden beneath large, brown boots, thick black trousers, and a long, tan coat, also very thick and adorned with a single military medal. The man had a thick, strong neck, covered by a long, tan scarf. His face was round and almost child-like, with Slavic features and large, pale violet eyes, and framed by somewhat messy beige-blonde hair. Russia could be considered handsome, especially with his broad shoulders and pretty eyes. Speaking of which, those eyes were trained on Yao right now, looking slightly confused by the Chinese man's staring. Also, China may or may not have been voicing his thoughts in Mandarin, furthering the Russian's bewilderment. 操!

"Yao-Yao, are you alright," the Russian man inquired, feeling out of the loop at the moment. All he had done was hug его в настоящее время-друг. Also, he pointed out to his soontobeloverifIvangothisway that their pinky fingers were now connected through a knotted red cord. Maybe that was his reason for babbling in Mandarin Chinese and staring at Ivan as though he was, well, a fine cut of meat, to put it mildly. At least, that was how it was appearing to Russia, дa?

"I-I'm fine, aru," China stammered, unable to take his off of the little, thin blood red string that would change his life irrevocably. Not that it had to though. Yes, all he had to do was ignore that horrid red ribbon tying him to Russia, and all would be fine and dandy. Yes, it would, just so long as the man on top of him never, _ever_ found out what the seemingly insignificant cord of red meant. Actually, the Russian really should be getting off of him right now, come to think of it.

As though he could hear the Yao's thoughts, Russia stood up and brushed himself off. He then offered a hand to the smaller man, who grasped it, and then nearly fell over again when the blonde pulled him up hard enough to nearly yank his arm of its socket. The taller man then began to pat the dust off the dark-haired man's clothes and hair. Ivan then noticed that his actions were causing его драгоценный маленький Yao to turn the same color as the string that was still attached to the near tips of their fingers. Now that the Русский thought about it, the blood-colored thing probably had some sort of strange meaning, if его сладкий Yao's reaction was anything to go by.

"Yao," Russia started, "what is this red string doing attached to our fingers?"

The end result of that query was China turning an even deeper shade of red, which turned out to be very possible, and stuttering something about Asian myths and, had the Russian's ears deceived him, душа-товарищи?

"Let me make this clear, дa," Russia intoned, "according to dearest Yao's legends, this string," to emphasize his point, Ivan tugged at the wonderful little cord, "connects those who are destined to be together. And, as such, it can never be broken, even in death," at this, the Chinese man nodded in an almost shy manner, "because the two people are soul-mates?"

At the word "soul-mates," Yao's heart stopped as he was suddenly overwhelmed by the true implication of the statement. If the legends were anything to go by, and they most certainly were, he was now, in sickness and in health, not in even in death do they part, stuck with the Slav named Ivan Braginsky, the personification of the nation of Russia, for the rest of eternity. He did the only thing possible at that very moment, even if it was rather out of character for him: he fainted.

Looking down at его красивый, нет, возлюбленный душа-товарищи, Wang Yao, Ivan Braginsky chuckled and gently picked up the man's unconscious form, cradling him bridal-style. He then slowly, as not to disturb его любимого, er, sleep, walked towards China's house, all the while wearing the grin of the cat that caught the canary. As Russia crossed the threshold of the elaborately designed Oriental house, the man couldn't help but whisper, "Дорогая, я дома." Oh, how lovely the rest of eternity would be with его маленький панда at his side. Now all he had to do was convince Yao of this.

He definitely had a lot of work ahead of him.

+?+

Mandarin Chinese to English Translations:

俄罗斯，你搞什么鬼呀 – Russia, what are you doing

放开我! – let go of me!

操 - the f-bomb

Russian to English Translations:

его в настоящее время-друг – his currently-friend

дa - yes

его драгоценный маленький – his precious little

Русский – Russian

его сладкий – his sweet

душа-товарищи – soul-mate

его красивый, нет, возлюбленный душа-товарищи – his lovely, no, beloved soul-mate (Ivan is very much the romantic, let me tell you! ;) )

его любимого – his darling's

Дорогая, я дома – Honey, I am home

его маленький панда - his little panda

All translations are courtesy of Google Translate.

I've finally posted something! Yay! By the way, Russia/China is my second favorite Russia pairing (Russia/America is still my favorite). However, I still think I did okay at this one, at least, I hope so. So, what are you waiting for, review!

*Update* - Okay, a reviewer, the ever-so-kind **CharlatanQuintessence**, has pointed out the Chinese errors, so I'm pretty sure it's all good. The dialogue changed a bit, but nothing that has really impacted the meaning of the story, so, no worries!


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